


Baby Daddy

by ami_ven



Series: Three Warehouse Agents and a Baby [1]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Community: writerverse, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myka and Helena have something very important to ask Pete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> written for LJ community "writerverse" prompt “Best thing that can happen to a man is a good woman” (Chief Porter in “Odd Thomas”) (1st person)

“I must have been hallucinating, just now,” I said, looking at the two women sitting on the loveseat across from my chair. “Because otherwise, I would have sworn you said that H.G. Wells wanted to have my baby.”

“Pete…” said Myka, sounding both fond and exasperated.

“I don’t really go by ‘H.G.’ all that much,” said Helena, mildly.

“No,” I agreed. “But it sounded more dramatic.”

“Pete,” said Myka, again. “This is—”

“It’s serious, Myks, I know. I just… Why me?”

I couldn’t help glancing from the two of them to the newest photo on the mantle, a wedding picture— Helena wearing something Victorian-looking, like a cross between a tux and a dress, and Myka, in a simple white gown, both of them beaming at each other.

They wanted kids, I knew that. They’d been talking about it since before they’d gotten married, adoption or biological, surrogate or sperm donor. Given the way they’d been talking lately, I thought they’d settled on that last one, but none of my (completely accidental!) eavesdropping had even hinted they were planning to ask _me_ to do the honors.

Myka leaned across the low coffee table to take my hand. “We thought about this. A lot. And there are really, really good reasons. But we— okay, mostly me— are afraid they might come out wrong.”

I turned my hand so I could squeeze her fingers. “Let’s hear ‘em,” I said.

She took a deep breath. “Well, obviously, Helena will be the one to actually carry the baby, because of my… you know…”

“Cancer,” I said, softly but firmly. Myka was in remission, for now completely cancer-free, but I wouldn’t let her be afraid of the word. “Okay, still why me?”

“Because you want a baby,” said Helena, bluntly. “I know how important family is to you, Pete, and since you seem unlikely to start your own family any time soon—”

“Thanks, H.G.,” I drawled, but she was right. Not even my most serious relationships had ever come anywhere close to what she and Myka had.

“What she _means_ ,” said Myka, squeezing my hand. “Is that you’re part of _our_ family.”

“A child should have as much family as possible,” Helena added.

Myka nodded. “Our kid would have a good start with a mom and a ‘mum’—” she tried to imitate Helena’s accent, and almost succeeded— “but it would be even better if he or she could have a dad, too.”

“But it’ll be your kid,” I said, confused.

“It’s a tad unorthodox, I know,” said Myka. “But then, we neutralize dangerous artifacts with purple goo, so…”

I blinked. “Wait. You don’t just want me to be the kid’s dad, you want me to _be the kid’s dad_.”

“Of course,” said Helena. “Do you know how many sperm donor profiles Myka and I looked at?”

“I kinda don’t want to know,” I said.

Helena ignored me. “It was a lot, Pete. Until we realized that we already knew a person who had every quality we would want our child to possess.”

“I—”

“Yes, I meant that,” she interrupted. “And no, you will never get me to repeat that.”

I closed my mouth, because I had been about to ask both of those things.

“Take your time to think about it, Pete,” said Myka. “Don’t decide anything until you’re really sure.”

She was still holding my hand, and Helena added hers to the pile. For a long moment, I just looked at our hands, stacked up together on Myka’s knee.

She and Helena were going to be _awesome_ parents. And I’d have been lying if I said I hadn’t ever dreamed of little Latimers— boys and/or girls, I wasn’t judgey— learning to play ball from their old man. And, yeah, maybe that plan had originally been based around a wife and a white picket fence, but it also _hadn’t_ accounted for endless wonder.

I knew exactly what my decision had to be.

“Okay,” I said, slowly. “I’d love to be your kid’s dad.”

“Really?” asked Myka. “Are you really sure?”

“Really, really sure,” I said, then grinned. “Let’s go knock up H.G. Wells.”

“ _Pete_ …” said Myka, but she was laughing.

Helena smiled. “Thank you, Pete.”

I grinned. “Hey. We’re family.”

THE END


End file.
